


Always Time For Another

by NotALemon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's not good at being a demon, Drinking, M/M, Post-Canon, Requited Love, but Aziraphale's not much of a good angel so, i wrote this procrastinating on sleep, talking of demonic activity, tbh it's just them drinking and there's some fluff I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale and Crowley are drinking together, as usual. Crowley wants to talk about them "saving the world", and the conversation takes an unexpected (and cliche) turn.<br/>Or, when Aziraphale learns that yes, demons can potentially love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Time For Another

“We saved the world!” Crowley proclaimed. “It was bloody brilliant, wasn’t it?”

“That was years ago,” said Aziraphale, “and did we really do much of the saving?” 

Crowley reached for a bottle. 

“No, we. We did something. Something good. Something good. We saved the world. By doing something. Go- Sa- Someone knows,” said Crowley, “someone knows that we did something. And we. We saved the world.”

“That’s not how I remember it. We didn’t do much. Except hold hands,” said Aziraphale, glaring moodily at his glass. “An’ show our wings.”

“It was something. It was great.” 

“Are you poste- posteri- post- sure we did much of anything?”

“We sure did. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t lie to you.”

“But you’re a demon. It’s your job to lie, to tempt others like how you tempted the first humans. I believe I would know,” said Aziraphale matter-of-factly.

Crowley looked off to the side. “You wouldn’t know unless you were demon yourself.”

“I would know. I’m a bloody angel. I know how demons work. I know your ways, you old serpent. You’re good at tempting. You’ll never tempt me.”

“I’ve hardly. I’ve hardly tried to tempt you. And yes, I am great at tempting. Ask anyone how I tempted the first humans. It’s an ineffable story.”

“Yes yes. It was brilliant, as you say. All I’m trying to say is that you’re a demon and you can’t stop the appl- apocl- end of the world. And if you could,” Aziraphale gave Crowley a stern look, “why would you bother? You’re a bloody demon!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you love destruction and death and all that. Why would you stop the end of times? Shouldn’t you enjoy it?”

“I enjoy humans. So easy to tempt. A nudge here, a push there, a couple things out of line, and poof! They’ll go and do something dastardly. Their minds and all. Thinking of things a demon couldn’t have ever thought of. Why’d I ever want that to end?”

“I don’t know. You’re a demon. I wouldn’t know how your kind works,” sniffed Aziraphale. 

“I know how your kind works. I was once an angel like you. And I didn’t mean to Fall. I just hung out with the wrong crowd. And anyways,” said Crowley, glaring at Aziraphale, “you’re not too far from Falling yourself.”

“And what would you mean by that?”

“You’re not doing much good for an angel. Getting drunk with a demon and all. It’s. It’s not heavenly. Or holy. When was the last time you did a good deed?”

“I fed the ducks as well as complimented several people on their literr- litn- choice in books. That made their days nicer.”

“But are you sure? Did you really. Did you really make their days better? Or did you just think you did? That’s the true question.” Crowley tried to pour himself another glass and succeeded in filling half.

“You’re not much of a proper demon. I at least try t’be a good angel. You glue coins to sidewalks. That’s not proper demonic activity at all.”

“It is. It annoys people. Makes them upset. And they snap at each other. It’s not much, but it’ll cause a chain reaction. Lots of people snapping at each other. Good fun.”

“That’s not any fun. It’s wrong. People should love and respect each other. But what do demons know about love?”

“Some demons know. More than others.”

“Which demons? I don’t know of any.”

Crowley stared at a bottle on the table. “Yes you do.”

“Are you- are you talking about yourself?”

“I might be. I might not be.”

“But you’re a demon. It’s ineffable. It can’t happen. It has never happened before.” Aziraphale looked at his glass. “I can’t handle this while ‘m drunk.”

They both waited as the alcohol drained from their bloodstreams and straightened themselves up. Aziraphale adjusted his glasses.

“Now, what were you saying about love?”

Crowley glared at his now empty glass. “Some demons can love. Maybe some are more human than you think.”

“Pardon?”

“The Arrangement was years ago. We’ve become… friends. I suppose. Or something like that.” 

“I suppose we have. How is this related to love?”

“Friendship is a type of love. Right?” 

“You could argue that, yes.”

Crowley smiled slyly. “Then demons can feel love. Correct?”

“To a certain extent. But-”

“And I can love. So that means you were wrong.”

“Well-”

“And Satan loved God, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“And He still loves God.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t possibly know that. When was the last time you heard from Him?”

“It’s been a while,” admitted Crowley, “but He still loves God.”

Aziraphale straightened his tie.

“Can all demons love, though?”

“No. Er, I don’t know. Probably?”

“But can you only feel friendship? Can you feel pure love? No, it’s just lust.”

Crowley blushed and looked down. “Yes, I can feel something other than lust.”

“How? You’re-”

“I know I’m a bloody demon! Just because I Fell doesn’t mean I can’t still love y-” Crowley stopped and busied himself pouring a glass of wine. 

“Pardon?”

“It was nothing.”

“No, you were saying something.”

“It was nothing."

“It was something about loving someone.”

“It doesn’t matter who I love. All that matters is that I can love.”

“Who can you love?”

“It doesn’t matter, angel.”

“Please? Would you please tell me, dear?”

“You wouldn’t like it, angel,” said Crowley. 

Aziraphale gave him a strange look. “Why wouldn’t I like who you love?”

Crowley fiddled with his sunglasses. “It might just be you.” He discarded his glass to drink from the bottle.

“Oh. That’s unusual.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“It’s ineffable, I suppose.”

“And you’re alright with it?”

“You know I can love, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And I could possibly love a fellow angel. Or perhaps one that Fell.”

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale. “One like me.”

“Perhaps one like you.”

“So you… you love me?”

“Yes, dear, I love you. I have for a while,” Aziraphale smiled, “and apparently you have as well.”

“And what does this mean?”

“I suppose it means that we’re ineffable.”

Crowley sat the bottle onto the table. “Yes. I suppose it does. Would you care for a drink?”

“Another?”

“Oh angel, there’s always time for another.”

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I wrote this for an hour and a half. I have marching band tomorrow.  
> Someone help me.


End file.
